


Murder on the Dancefloor

by AceQueenKing



Series: Diplomatic Solutions [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, F/M, Misunderstandings, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12719601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Loghain and Cousland arrive at Anora's ball for the Orlais' delegation, but neither of them are happy to be there.





	Murder on the Dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DracoCustos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoCustos/gifts).



 

Of all the challenges she had dealt with in her time as the Hero of Ferelden, this was the worst - and she was very much including the Archdemon in that.  
  
She had fought going to the Queen's most recent ambassadorial dinner with the Orlesian nobility tooth and nail. She had protested, whined, and, when even that failed, begged for her ability to not go. She hated, hated, hated the frippery that came with being from nobility. But, especially, Elissa Cousland hated fancy parties, and, of those, parties filled with ambassadors from Orlais. It had always been Fergus' job to deal with the ambassadorial duties, but now that he had left for Antivia, the responsibility - and the title of Teyrna - had fallen to Elissa.  
  
But her Queen had been merciless. "If my father can bear to sit at the right hand of Celine, Empress of Orlais, you, of all people, will need to make an appearance as well," she had said, and her tone had brooked no argument. As if to emphasize this, the queen had swished her coats and left the royal chamber after hearing of Elissa's complaint, and somehow not even having Anora be there to see her distaste had made the defeat ring even more hollow.  
  
She had only one ally. Loghain had been quick to approach her. Though they had never quite agreed during the battle against the Archdemon - Loghain was a man of passionate beliefs, including in strategic matters - they both agreed on one, vital point.   
  
They both hated Orlais.  
  
For her, it was a matter of family pride. Living in Highever, she had met plenty of Orlesian merchants. Now, her parents had been able to be the very models of faith and decorum, able to nimbly jump between the two cultures. Her mother had been dressed in Orlais fashion but could lift a sword as good as any Ferelden. Her father knew more than a few poetic epics to recite, but also more than enough drinking songs. And, her parents, in turn, had given birth to two children, each favorite one extreme: Fergus could hold a sword, but his manner was damn near Orlesean, full of subtle shifts and turns of phrase that made him almost as skillful as a bard. And, Elissa, who despite the delicate name, had always had her eyes on a sword from the time she could walk and always said things plain.  
  
She had always planned on being the warrior in the family. How cruel it was, then, that Fergus had abandoned Ferelden.  
  
Her chin wobbled as she pulled on a necklace; one of her mothers. She had not returned to Highover since it had happened, but a kind servant had sent it to her, and she wore it as a matter of family honor. She was a Teryna now, and knew she must act the part.   
  
Which was unfortunate, because she sucked at it.  
  
Her hands went to her dress, frumpy and ill-fitting. It had been one of Anora's, but Anora was considerably softer, with less muscles. Elissa's buff shoulders bulged through the delicate fabric, her hands almost comically rough compared to the delicate, soft hands of Anora. The scars spanning her arms and legs from countless mabari bites, falls from the tower, and getting caught with her hand in the cookie char by cook once - all stood out to her.  
  
She doubted any in Orlais at this dinner would be so marred.  
  
She grabbed her Grey Warden signet and left it on her right hand, a reminder of those who they had known and lost. Without Alistair and Riordan, she was somehow the most senior Grey Warden in Ferelden - which perhaps said something less about the order and more about the direness of their situation. She needed to appear strong if shes wanted to get approval to search for warriors in their lands.  
  
And even if she found any, she thought sourly, there was no proof they would survive.  
  
There was a knock on the door and Elissa startled, dropping the signet ring and hastily jamming it on her finger. "Come in," she called.   
  
Loghain entered the door. He was boldly dressed, in clothing as befit a Teryn. He was in civilian clothes, which surely had been an argument with his daughter - but it had paid off. He was clad in the mossy green of the Teryn of Gwaren, the sort of clothes that reminded people instantly of Gwaren and all that Loghain could claim. He looked, she was much begrudged to admit, quite nice. She had known him long enough to know if he had ever had the sort of love of theater the way his daughter had. She was not entirely sure as to what she was doing as his accompanier, but she had agreed, if only in hopes of knowing him better. He was the only remaining Teryn, like her;  it would not be such a bad match. They were both in quite vulnerable positions, after all.  
  
"Are you ready?" He said, in a dire tone that she suspected was normally used for Landsmeets and funerals. To say that Loghain had disagreed with his daughters' decision to host the Orlesian quartet had...been a bit of a slight exaggeration. Loghain detested it, had shouted at her, and had they not been family, Elissa had little doubt that they would be speaking at this moment. She nodded, tapping on a slight bit of rouge on her cheeks.  
  
"As ready as I ever will be," she said, moving oddly in the gown. It swished loudly with every step, and Elissa winced, annoyed at it. There would be no stealthy withdrawals from an awkward dinners conversation; she could never slink off in this without alerting at least six noble houses that she would be encroaching soon upon their territory. She was like the cat in the picture book she had been given as a child, her natural gifts squandered by the large, ceremonial bell she was forced to wear around her neck.   
  
"You look...appropriate," he said, offering her arm. She glared at him, knowing it was true but also knowing that polite society demanded that he shouldn't say it. Her heart fell a bit at that, already feeling like the day would be less making fun or Orlesians and more poking fun at how the Cousland ugly duckling didn't quite clean up right.   
  
"Some of us have more appropriate things to waste our times on than watching Orlesian dogs bark," she muttered, glaring daggers at her "date." She debated calling it off but knew her queen would not appreciate. And, unfortunately, she did desire to stay on the right side of Anora. She was a good queen, even-tempered; Lady Cousland knew few would support her of the remaining lords, despite what she had done for Ferelden. Saving a country meant little once the danger had passed. Anora knew Lady Elissa Cousland had saved her rule as well her country, and she was not going to forget it.   
  
To her surprise, he smiled and a soft, low chuckle escaped his throat. "Indeed."  
  
He offered her his arm in a peace offering and she took it, unhappy but unwilling to be even further isolated from what she perceived as an already miserable event. The last thing she needed was some Orlesian minister taking pity on a "single maiden" and trying to make a move on her. Coming in such a smart party alone...it would be a declaration of an open season, and she had not the drive to resist calls from Ferelden and Orlais alike. Even if the nobles as a whole did not care for her enough to spare her from their recriminations, her potency as a warrior could make her useful in any conflict. She was a great warrior with a fearsome reputation, and there were few enough generals left with such reputations that she felt quite safe in estimating a demanding and quite large price for her services.

Fortunately, she was the Teryna and had little need for money.  

Loghain, no doubt, had drawn the same conclusion. He walked stiffly at her side, a wide space between their arms. His gait was long and commanding, and multiple times she stumbled, much to her chagrin. Where had Anora found such a useless contraption as this dress?!   
  
"Perhaps we may be lucky," he murmured, "and the event will end early."  
  
"About as likely as Oghren swearing off alcohol," she barked. Loghain didn't smile at that crack, perhaps out of the rather flatulent memory of the dwarf or perhaps by the fact that they could now hear the twinkling music that spelled their unfortunate arrival. She supposed it was a good thing that the dwarf had not earned an invitation, since he no doubt would be telling rather vulgar stories about her and noises heard inside of her tent - but then again, perhaps that would have been a good thing. Perhaps it would have driven out some of the more sensitive nobles.   
  
"Prepare yourself, Teryna," Loghain said, straightening his back. "We go to war."  
  
She put on her polite society face, the one her mother had taught her to fake all those years ago, and prepared to defend her fatherland in the only way she knew—by fighting.  
  
Loghain stopped abruptly as they came to the end of a line. Six couples stood ahead of them, some with masks, some without, and every once bathed in enough gaudy accessories to fund a good armada or two. Elissa rolled her eyes. It was always the blatant excess of the nobles that infuriated her. She had seen entire districts starve while her cousins puddled around in fur coats. Such things happened rarely in Highever, but that did not mean it did not happen and had not happened. It had, and she bore the shame of that, if not to the level of those who had starved those unfortunate souls in the streets. 

She wondered why they had all queued there, with no one speaking. It had been something she had seen in her youth, but rarely, generally only when - oh no. Maker, but _no_. She'd been to a party like this once, with her brother, and waited nearly an hour before she had been called.  
  
"Don't tell me Anora is insisting on - " Her complaint to Loghain was cut short, as a hale and heart voice shouted out, "Monsieur and Lady Ar'de'lanc, of L'Rennoiulle!"   
  
"I'm afraid so," Loghain said, looking fiercely uncomfortable. A woman ahead of her turned back to her, looking at her dress with the sort of scrutiny that Elissa usually applied to choosing a sword at the Denerim market. She'd recently embarrassed a merchant who'd loudly proclaimed his crafts were the finest in Orzammar, which a) they weren't and b) she had seen the finest crafts of Orzammar, and no smith in Orzammar worth their salt would dare to sell such cheaply made swords with the strong dents and cracks as this. Why she had let him have it for a good hour over the better ways to forge a blade until Leliana had gently suggested that they leave the poor dwarf to his chicanery and instead try another merchant.  
  
At least Denerim had Wade. A good smith, to be sure, though his skills in the forge hardly made up for his personality. Still, she could understand his passion, it was so frustrating when a weapon-smith failed to understand or worse, took advantage of his craft -   
  
Loghain jolted her from her reminiscence, grabbing her and pulling her forward. She wasn't sure why until he pulled back the curtain and she heard a loud and vulgar man cry out, "The Teryna of Highever, Elissa Cousland, and the Teryn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir!"  
  
Unlike with many of the other candidates, there were no overwhelming rounds of applause for them. A few polite claps, and little else. Loghain shoved her forward, his face a bit red, and she kept the artfully blank face her father had always favored of her.   
  
She was a lady, even if such a fact was, at times, regrettable to her. There were plenty of men here who were armed, though few if any of them held blades that were well made. None of the women had weapons, nay, not even a good buckler. She shook her head. Orlesians were always backward in their thoughts, and even the high society people of Ferelden were fiercely conservative. She sighed.   
  
"Ungrateful wretches," Loghain barked. She said nothing, and Elissa thought wistfully that she was getting plenty of practice at the carefully blank face her mother had insisted on. _Neither derisive nor over-eager be,_ she had hummed, and Elissa took it to heart. Despite the lack of weapons, they were both in the belly of the beast now.  
  
"You can hardly expect them to applaud you," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Nobles are many things, but they are cowards most of all."  
  
It had literally been a matter of life and death before many would deem to support her in the landsmeet. A defeat that must have been even harder for Loghain, given that it was him that she had forced the feckless nobles to turn on. He had not been a good leader, not for this crowd, who had wanted nothing more than to suck off Orlaisian teats. Both her father and, she suspected, Loghain, would be ashamed.   
  
The room grew quiet and the lights dimmed, and she looked upwards in surprise. Loghain seemed nonplussed by the lights dimming, only turning with casual interest toward the entrance. "And finally, her highness, the lady Anora!"   
  
They both watched Anora with some interest. She was wearing white, a stunning dress made of heavy pearls that were disarmingly loud and uncomfortable. She wondered how Anora could stand it; she had seen the woman in armor and knew the Queen to be a warrior herself. And yet still here she was, wearing the rainments of a far different kind of battle.  
  
"She looks stunning," she said; the gown was white and starchy, with thousands upon hundreds of thousands of small pearls strung through it. It looked like a good thing to train in, she thought; it was rather ridiculously heavy, no doubt, with all those stones. With a few adaptations, Elissa could easily make her own training gear with similar holds. It would be nice, she thought, for a challenge; obviously, the heavy pearls would be a no-go but they were hardly the only type of stone; she could easily stitch pebbles in, or perhaps some small shells. There were always plenty of them upon the shore.  
  
"Yes," Loghain nodded. "She is certainly more than just appropriate." Was that a knock on her? Elissa turned toward him, her eyes narrowed. Had Loghain Mac fucking Fir just insulted her, when she had been so nice as to save his life? He, for the most part, seemed oblivious to her eyes having turned into daggers fixed upon his person. He was staring at his daughter with a look that she had reserved for her brother alone; but then again, he was swanning off on foreign shores and her entire rest of her family were dead. He turned toward her finely and gave her a snobbish, weak smile. It was hitting her at a weak point, and she did not appreciate it.   
  
She did not bother to cultivate the carefully blank face that her mother had once taught her. Instead, she pursed her lips.   
  
"Perhaps we should mingle," Loghain said, his eyes locked on Anora.   
  
"I think that would be best," She sniffed. She was quite disappointed. She and Loghain rarely saw eye to eye, but she had hoped they would spend time making fun of Orlesian pomp and grandeur, rather than just making little snipes at one another. They were already outliers on the tips of Orlesian society about this; she had hoped that it would be enough misery that they would enjoy their own company.   
  
Loghain, damn him, had made a beeline to Anora. It was not so surprising considering she was his daughter, but that left Elissa to meet and greet with the other nobles, who she knew only from training exercises her father had allowed her to attend, or meetings she had sat in with Fergus, Mother, and Father. And then there were those odd few she had met during the last few months during the battle with the Archdemon, but these lords and ladies had not sparked well to her memory; it had all felt dull and gray, with her focus nearly totally on the family she had lost.

She retreated toward her favored place at most of the parties she had been forced to attend in Highever: the snack table. Anora had spared no expense in the food, and while she should detest that, she was a bit thankful if only because there were many things for her to keep her mouth on. She chose carefully, taking a few flat, pancake-like egg-cakes, her mother's favorite, and the spicey chutney she had always personally favored. She even grabbed a few green beans - no doubt Fergus would yell at her for not eating enough vegetables, and it was all she could do to placate him.  

While she was eating the hors-d'oeuvres, she watched the party. 

Well, mostly, she watched Loghain from a distance, the green of his shirt making him easy to follow. Green was not favored by most of the noble houses; none save Gwaren.  As much as Elissa was mad at him, she was forced to admit he looked rather lovely in the soft, green silks; the coloring suited him far more than the dull browns of his leathers or the bright silver of his glinting armor. She would never tell him it, but he - like Anora - was surprisingly good at dressing up when the occasion stood for it. 

Though she was too far away to tell what they were saying, she could still make out what was going on by their body language quite well. She delicately munched on a bit of fruit and cheese as she watched Anora attempt to make a graceful retreat from her father. She backed away; he followed, she moved back, he caught up. She smirked. It seemed it was not only Elissa Cousland who found his behavior somewhat disappointing tonight, it seemed.

It was only when Anora slipped onto the arm of Lady Flisha deu Merchard that Loghain finally backed off. Celene had canceled her personal attendance at the last minute - not a great sign for the border negotiations Anora had been hoping to run by the Orlesian tyrant, Elissa thought. But she had sent Flisha in her place. She was a young noble, Flisha, but she was a high noble, related to Celene's own house. Loghain evidently found her company distasteful, as he turned and ran, immediately, into Duke Gaspard.

The Duke's mask quivered with delight for a moment. Loghain's expression looked more like a smacked arse.  _Anora should have made him wear a mask_ , she thought, thinking ruefully of how easy it was to read the Teryn and his passions. It was clear that he thought little of Gaspard, and wanted little to do with him. Gaspard asked him a question despite his obvious reticence, however; Loghain replied in a short, clipped sentence, barely a breath leaving his mouth before an awkward silence filled the air between them. 

She sighed. While Elissa took some pleasure in watching Loghain strikeout, she did feel a nagging sense of guilt. It was not kind, necessarily, to Anora or her mission, even if it was fun to watch Loghain make an ass out of himsel-

Her thoughts were shattered by a blonde woman yelling her name loudly and running toward her in heels that Elissa was fairly sure could be thrown as a weapon. The woman ran and embraced her.   
  
"Teeeeeh-Gan!" The woman motioned another man over, her voice loud and Orlesian. Even with the elegant ebony mask that hid her face, there was little doubt as to who it was. Redcliff's own Isolde, no doubt, with the aforementioned Arl Teagan in tow.   
  
"Hello, Isolde." She tried to bring back the carefully blank face of her mother and hoped that she managed to set an at least slightly happy look. "How are you? And Connor?"   
  
"We are well," Isolde beamed. "My Connor has gone into the circle, thanks to your help." She didn't smile when she said it, but then what noble was happy to have a son in the Tower? Connor should have taken over Arl Eamon's castle, but such things looked unlikely now. "He likes it there, though he misses the Cooks' cooking." Her chin wobbled slightly there, and Elissa knew that that was a hard insult to Isolde, which was almost comical given how she never cooked her own meals.   
  
Elissa thought of Elsie, the cook of Highever in her youth, and felt nostalgic. She could almost taste the apple pie, rich with butter and cinnamon. She shook her head slightly, trying to get rid of those memories. Another lifetime now. "I am glad to hear of it. My sympathies about Arl Eamon, by the way."   
  
"Yes," she said and sounded sad. "He had a good life."   
  
"He was a rather manipulative man," Loghain said, coming back toward them. The response from the guests was immediate: Isolde turned a bright red, while Teagan paled. Elissa shot Loghain a dagger with her look which he once again ignored. "A magnificent strategist, really."  
  
"Excuse me," Isolde said, raising her nose. "I think me and Teagan must go where our family will be respected."  
  
With that she stalked off, Arl Teagan, as ever, close on her heels.  
  
"Boy, you just know all the right things to say," Elissa said, folding her arms and sighing. "You must have been considered a real smooth talker back when you were a farmer."   
  
"What was untrue about what I said?" Loghain said, shaking his own head. "Lady Isolde knows the truth as well as I do: her husband was a good politician, a good strategist. But an honest man, he was not."  
  
"Do you ever think that not all conversations are about your opinions?" Elissa fired back, slipping a hand over her skirts. "Not everyone wants a full blast of your - your - " She thought of how he had called her outfit adequate despite her putting in more effort than she would normally have bothered with and flushed red. "truth arrows!"  
  
"Duly noted," he said, raising an eyebrow. He had finally noticed she was mad, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he had perhaps considered her more interesting for her anger. He leaned over and pulled a glass of wine off the service table for her. "Perhaps we should take our seats for dinner."   
  
He held out an arm and she stared at it a moment. He left his hand there, open and daring her to take it. At the risk of appalling her mother's ghost, who was no doubt spinning in her grave over Elissa's brisk talk with another Teryn, she let it fall. Loghain looked at her more intently than ever, looking like nothing so much than a hungry man deprived a meal.  
  
"You'll excuse me surely." Lady Elissa Cousland looked at Loghain and snorted. "Forgive me for not taking your hand, but I don't shake hand with those are so absolutely terrible at politics."  
  
His hand sunk into his pocket. "We will be seated together at the head table, directly to the right of Anora. Arl Teagan and Isolde will be to my right."  
  
"Wonderful," she said, dryly. Loghain had been her choice because she had wanted to get through this night with a minimum of talking to Orlesians. She had not counted on him being rude to Ferelden, or, worse yet, to Ferelden nobles that were on her - _their_ \- side.   
  
But then again, it had been his fault Ark Eamon was dead. Perhaps the bastard was merely guilty.  
  
"I will see you at the top table," he said, looking back at her. "We are sitting next to one another, you know."  
  
_Wonderful_ , she thought, with a soft sigh. _Just wonderful._  
  
She gathered her skirt in her hands and awkwardly hobbled over to the table. Sure enough, she was sandwiched between Loghain Mac Tir and Avelinia Del Couer. Because of course, she was. No doubt she had been placed here to provide a buffer between an Orlesian noble and Loghain.   
  
As much as she disliked Orlais, she was beginning to look forward, if you could call it that, to talking with the Orlesian. Madame Avelinia Del Couer was young, younger than most Teryns, like herself; like Elissa, she'd risen up after a brutal disaster that had left both her parents deceased. She had friends in high places, which had led to her invitation here. And, unlike Elissa, Madame Del Couer never. shut. up.  
  
"Hello, _mon_ ami!" Couer said, grinning. She was blond and fair, and her face flushed, seemingly out of the happiness of just meeting another person. "You are the hero of Ferelden, are you not? I have heard _such_ things about you."  
  
Elissa relaxed a bit as Anora' servants served the first course. When she saw it, her heart fell - a simple salad, with just one tuft of lettuce and a bit of salted pork. With that, no doubt was there in her mind that she would be forced to sit here for multiple courses, all while longing to be in her room in the castle. And even that was a far cry from Highever, but, then again, she could never go home to Highever again.   
  
"Oh, I'm glad you've heard good things," Elissa said, her face for once smiling. While she did not particularly like Orlais, she knew, being so close to Anora, she would have to play nice. 

"Oh, I did not say they were good things." Avelinia Del Couer wrinkled her button nose; the expression of disgust was obvious despite the mask. "I suppose some would consider your accomplishments. a good thing, if they were in favor of such...nationalism." 

Elissa bit her tongue and took a deep breath. Of course, Anora would sit her next to a bloody Orlesian patriot. "Is it true you bought a dog to fight your battles for you?"  
  
"Bobbily Barker is a valued member of my team, yes," she said, forcing herself not to bite down on every word. Loghain's eyes turned toward her and she met his eyes. He was angry, and, for once, he was not angry at her.

"Surely you have heard of the great mabari war-dogs?"  
  
Avelinia laughed and clapped her hands. "Of course, _mon_ ami! We have dogs like _et_ in the circus, along with dancing bears and fire-breathing drakes! What an odd thing. Do you have an acrobat and a strongman, too?  I 'ave seen in the Empresses' reports that you have a quanari." 

"Sten was a valued ally," Elissa said, then grabbed her wind-glass. Her headache had started before she'd even gotten into this miserable hall, but it was growing larger by the second, and quadrupling nearly every time Avelinia opened her mouth.

"I see. We do not see such brutes in Orlais often; they do feel the need to invade such a - how do you say? - _reech_ nation. We are too well defended with our chevaliers for them to bother us much. Such nasty looking beasts." 

Elissa did not reply, merely focusing on stuffing as much salad as she could in her mouth. What was it her mother had told her? If you cannot say anything nice, it is better to channel a nug rather than a dragon. She played the part well, munching on bits of salad as she squeaked around indignantly in her mind. 

"And I heard _eet_ said that you even got rid of a potential ' _eer_ to the throne," Flissa said. At that, Elissa stopped chewing - as did Loghain. They both looked at one another, suddenly aware that this game was more dangerous than either had before thought. It had always been annoying - now Avelinia had tipped her hand, and showed that she had more invested in Elissa than she had previously thought. "I wonder, why do that? Perhaps you are - how do you say - _threatened_ by the Theirins?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Elissa said. A lie, but one she was careful not to reveal, keeping her face blank. While Alistair was a Therin, few knew; Loghain, of course, and herself, and perhaps Leliana, who had been with her when they had encountered Glorianna. And Leliana, she knew, was very good at keeping secrets, and, beyond that, buried away in a monastery nowhere near Orlais. 

She wondered which little bird had leaked this song. They would have to hunt it out.

"How curious," Flissa said, a remark that did little to help ferret out her true interest. "I ' _ad_ heard you chose Ser Loghain over a young grey warden who had deep _connections_ to Meric."

"I do not recall Elissa ever making such a choice," Loghain said, quietly. His voice was a knife, careful and deadly. "I am afraid if any choice was made in such a thing It was not made by Teryna Elissa, madam, but from the boy child who threw a fit when such a thing was markedly in his group's least interest. And for the record, I, too, am a Teryn and should be addressed as such."  
  
"Forgie me, your foreign titles are so - how do you say? - _exotique_." The woman said, swiping her hand away as if asking for such respect was a mere footnote. "It is you, then, who chose to go with the young lady? Perhaps _you_ are the one making all the decisions, and rumors of this whisp are a girl being a great commander are exactly that - _rumors_."  
  
"You are on danger's grounds, my lady," Loghain said.

"I do not need you to fight for me," Elissa whispered. "I am not a child you need keeping."

"Indeed," Avelinia said, taking a long and no doubt victorious swig of her wine. "You are not helping me disbelieve the rumors I have ' _eard_ of the young lady, of how she is a figurehead much like your daughter - "  
  
"Anora," Loghain said, casually tearing a bit of bread in half in a manner that suggested nothing so much as that he wished the bread was, in fact, Avelinia's head. "Is a capable woman who has kept this nation running while that _child of a King_ played knights and chevaliers. And Elissa, too, is a great leader; you denigrate the women of our nations to your own danger, madam. Lady Elissa is the dragon of our kingdom, and I am happy to be her drake."

 This was the first time Elissa had ever been compared to a lizard. It was also, strangely, flattering.  She blushed a deep red, which no doubt ruined the look of her ugly dress, but she did not care. Such words seemed spoken from the heart. 

"To Queen Anora," she said because she had little to add. Loghain raised a wine glass and they hooked arms together, an ancient Ferelden sign for an alliance. She was only surprised that the Black Wardens themselvs had not rquired it, twas so old. Loghain's strong muscles rubbed against hers, and she smiled.  
  
"Ah,if you would excuse me - I am afraid I am needed, somewhere else, among more _scintillating_ conversations," Avelinia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I feel my country men are calling me, and I must obey, of course." Couer stomped off, admitting defeat.  
  
Loghain turned to her, his face proud. "I suppose my - how do you say it? "truth arrows" found their mark."  
  
"Indeed," she held out her hand and he took it without hesitation, and she smiled. "Good job."  
  
"You are both incorrigible," Anora said, her mouth drawn into a straight line. Elissa did not feel guilty; The Queen knew what she was doing when she had put them together in the seating chart and now their combined mouth had helped to keep Ferelden safe, if only from one shitty partygoer's Orlesian guttermouth. "I am never seating you next to one another again."   
  
"Duly noted," Loghain said, his voice surprisingly light. He stood abruptly and held out an arm, pressing his fingers to her again. "Now, my lady, since the hour is drawing late and I do believe we have achieved our victory—shall we dance?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, and reached out and grabbed his hand. It was an odd thing, to take his hand.  
  
She caught one last glimpse of Anora, who merely rolled her eyes. Elissa took that as permission, of a sort.  
  
He placed his hand on her shoulder, another on her hip and moved forward. She grabbed his hand and pulled it forward, wrapping it around his waist.  
  
"Oh?" He said. "Do you not think this is too forward, my lady?"  
  
"If I thought it was too forward, I would not have allowed you to put your hand upon me, ser," she said, spinning outward. He twirled her around then whipped her back, and her hands wrapped around his neck. This time, his hands went to where she wanted them to.  
  
"I hadn't thought you were interested," he said, strangely quietly, almost abashed. "You seemed rather hesitant when I came upon your quarters, and again in the hall. I had thought perhaps you were courting a different noble, perhaps Gaspard - "   
  
"Oh you should know," she said, tilting her head toward her and whispering, "I like my men Ferelden. "  
  
"If you want a Ferelden, my lady," he said, his voice almost strangely possessive. "You shall have it."   
  
She winked low and sultry, and whispered: "You know, ser, where my rooms are, do you not?"

"Indeed," he said, turning her toward his arms. "I am glad you no longer feel the need for such games, my lady."  
  
"Games?" She raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't call anything that happened there a game. I assure you, my barbs against Orlais are deadly serious." She turned her hips, pulling away from him in one neat motion. He followed three brisk steps. She remembered that he was a military man then; it was evident in his stance. She caught Anora's eye over her father's shoulder and saw nothing but amusement. 

"And mine as well, I assure you. I was talking about your jealousy over my attention to my daughter." Was he serious? She looked into his eyes. Deadly serious.   
  
She stopped moving on the dance floor, the sudden stoppage upsetting no less than three couples and two servers, both of whom gave her rather apocalyptic glares. Loghain showed little reaction to her, only looking at her. 

"Me? Jealous of the queen?" She laughed. "Hardly. I love Anora, but I would hate her job."

"Then why do you stare at her as if she is a creature possessed?" He frowned. "I caught the way you glared at me for simply complimenting her earlier." 

"You implied I looked like little more than a _wet dog_ compared to her," she whispered, furious. She grabbed his hands and pulled him toward an Alcove. She caught Anora's eyebrow rising, but little else. 

"I said you looked satisfactory," he said. His eyes darted over her house colors. "I never said you looked _unsatisfactory_." 

"You said she looked more than appropriate," she whispered. "How was I supposed to take that?"  
  
"Certainly not as an offense." He was quiet, his eyes low.  Was he embarrassed? The taciturn man, it was hard to tell. "There are few things I love in this earth more than my daughter, I'm afraid. I am not a man who is effusive in my praise but - I do try to compliment her. Is that an issue?"  
  
"Only when you imply there's an open competition between her and myself," Elissa whispered, the heat in her voice gone. "I'm not one that takes well to competition, in this respect. It has always been a bit of a sore spot between me and - well, the rest of house Cousland, I'm afraid. "  
  
"Then they were fools. You're a much kinder soul than most nobles would be, and far more just than any other. I have a great deal of respect for you, my lady. And I did not mean to cause offense."

"I apologize if my behavior was unsatisfactory then." She said, bowing. "I must express I was unsatisfied with this evening. I thought we might spend the time sniping at Orlesian nobles, rather than each other."

"Well, my lady, I am no longer so young but - the night is, and there are plenty of Orlesians." He held out his arm and smiled. "What do you say we start over?"  
  
"I thought you would never ask," she said, grabbing his hand and letting him lead her out onto the dance floor. 


End file.
